The Rain in Spain
by Snowsie2011
Summary: Louisa recovers from surgery and decides to travel to Spain, with the baby, for a visit with her mother. What kind of havoc will Eleanor wage on her daughter's already precarious marriage to Martin?
1. Chapter 1

**This is a work of fanfiction. The characters and storylines belong to Buffalo Pictures.**

The Rain in Spain

Chapter 1

 **This story takes place at the end of Series 6. Louisa recovers from surgery and decides to visit her mother in Spain with James Henry. What transpires between mother and daughter over the three-week holiday?**

 **The title of this story is inspired by a song written by Fredrick Lowe and Alan Jay Lerner for the stage adaptation of George Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion. A story of change for all the worse reasons, Professor Higgins, a linguist, places a bet he can change Eliza Doolittle from a tough and tumble Cockney to a lady of high society. As one would expect, not all goes as plan for the Professor and Miss Doolittle.**

 **As Professor Doolittle strives to win his bet and change Eliza for the better, Louisa attempts to change Martin to suit her vision of what a father and husband should be. There are ups and downs, disappointments that barely survive the test of time. Change does not come easy, and sometimes it's questionable whether change is really necessary. Acceptance is often the best option, but we find Louisa in no frame of mind to go down that route.**

 **Instead she turns tail and takes James Henry to Spain for a visit with her mother. Martin is to remain in Portwenn and he wonders what havoc his mother-in-law will wreck on his already precarious marriage.**

It had been an uneventful flight until the man seated next to Louisa started to snore. His grunts and snorts were getting on her already frayed nerves, and she sighed with exasperation. It had already been a long day and there were still some ways to go before she and James arrived at their destination, a small village on Spain's southern coast. She took a few deep breaths, and gazed down at her sleeping son cradled in her arms. The scent of soap and nappy cream along with elusive smell of babyhood calmed her in a way nothing else could.

"Almost there, James Henry," Louisa whispered. He stirred but didn't wake, and she leaned back to look out at blue skies broken only by a few wispy clouds in the distance. Spain would be sunny and warm, unlike her native Cornwall where the damp got into one's bones. She needed a holiday, and had told the villagers as much when they asked why she was going away at the peak of the glorious and fleeting Cornish summer. None of them had been fooled by her throw away answer but most had kept their own counsel. Ruth was one who hadn't – she was no one's fool at the age of eighty - and had made clear running away was not the answer. "Marriage is difficult under the best of circumstances, Louisa. You have to tackle the problems head on or they'll fester until there's nothing left to salvage." They had been sitting in the surgery kitchen, nursing a pot of tea after Ruth had dropped off a picture book for James. It had become one of her habits, to visit the booksellers on her trips to London and purchase a pile for her great-nephew's enjoyment.

Louisa had agreed there was a need to air things out with Martin. "But he won't talk, Ruth. It's like I'm hitting a brick wall day and day out. I just can't do it anymore." Her voice had wavered and Ruth remained silent, possibly an invitation for Louisa to continue. But she hadn't and finally Ruth had stood, patting Louisa's hand patted before leaving. "You do what you feel is best, Louisa but remember that running away won't solve your or my nephew's problems."

Maybe it wouldn't solve their problems but it would give her breathing room. The months following their wedding had been a descent into a misery the like she'd never imagine existed. Her husband, never demonstrative to start with, had further withdrawn into himself for reasons she hadn't fully understood. But she had enough imagination to know his moods had something to do with her and the baby. The timing was right – it had all started after the wedding. Before then things had been as good as they ever had been, with Martin solicitous and caring with her and the baby, especially when no one was around. It hadn't been perfect, but she had chalked it up to pre-wedding jitters. Little did she know his behavior would deteriorate to the point where she eventually wondered why she had ever married him in the first place. There had been no rows, no harsh words. Just an impregnable wall of silence that Louisa had repeated tried to repeatedly breach without success.

She had tried everything, from cajoling to sharp words she could never take back. It's only when Louisa announced her intention to travel to Spain after all had Martin shaken off what was left of his self- imposed stupor.

"You can't be serious, Louisa. Flying is not a good idea in your condition." This had been said in with more spirit than she had heard in months, and a little flutter of hope came to life deep inside her soul. But it wasn't enough to make her change her mind.

"The surgical consultant said it was fine and anyhow, I need to use the tickets before the end of year."

"They'll give you a credit for the tickets if you ask, and the surgical consultant is a wrong." He grasped the back of the kitchen chair in anger at the thought of the so called surgical consultant, an inept pimply dweeb who had richly deserved to be shoved and locked into the broom closet. From Martin's perspective it had been a near miss, and he had no regrets on stepping in to perform the surgery himself. The downside was the pending disciplinary hearing, a small price to pay he had told Louisa, and she had seen a spark of the old Martin in the way he dismissed the charges levied against him. You are my wife, he had said to her, as if this was justification enough for his actions. Still, it hadn't been enough to keep her in Portwenn, and upon her discharge from hospital she had informed Martin of her plans.

"I need time away, a break from this." She had waved her hands, indicating the inside of the surgery kitchen. Martin wasn't fooled. "From me. You mean from me." The hurt in his eyes almost made Louisa change her mind but she steeled herself; it wouldn't do to back down now.

"From us, Martin. I need time to think about where this is going." If anywhere, she added silently.

"And the baby?"

"We've been over this. James is coming with me. It'll be good for him to see his granny."

"You don't even like your mother, Louisa. I just don't understand…"

"That's just it, Martin," she snapped. "You don't understand and I don't think you ever will."

Martin hadn't come to bed that night, and she had cried herself into a dreamless sleep. The joy and heartache of the past few months had taken a toll, and she wondered for the hundredth time how she came to find herself in this mess. She remembered their wedding day, how happy she had been to be finally married to the man she loved. But her fantasy of perfect married life had quickly crumbled under strain of Martin being Martin and the demands of caring for a baby. How could she had not seen it coming?

She awoke the next morning tired and drained of all feelings. The tears had brought a momentary calm and remoteness that enabled Louisa to leave the surgery without a twinge of guilt. Martin had insisted on driving them to the airport, and it had been a silent ride punctuated by the occasional gurgle from James. Martin had pulled up at the departures entrance and helped her with the case and nappy bag. Only then had he said, "I'll miss you." There were tears in his eyes, and she looked away, least it weakened her resolve.

"I'll ring when we get there." She had reached up and kissed him lightly on the cheek, and hurried away without looking back.


	2. Chapter 2

**This is a work of fanfiction. The characters and storylines belong to Buffalo Pictures**.

The Rain in Spain

Chapter 2

Louisa had dozed off, the warmth of the baby in her arms lulling her into much needed sleep. It was only when the flight attendant came by to collect the remains of her after lunch tea did she wake.  
"We'll be landing soon, Miss. This may be a good time to secure the little one in his seat."

"Yes, thank you," answered Louisa. She was groggy and still trying to get her bearings- yes, she was on a plane to Spain. Wasn't there a song about the plane in Spain, or was it the Plains in Spain? She shook the barmy thought from her mind along with the groggy remains of her nap before gently placing James in his seat. He was fast asleep, but woke the minute Louisa clicked the seat's harness in place. In the last few weeks James had developed a dislike for the car seat and voiced his displeasure with high pitched howls that made driving anywhere a chore. Thankfully the village was small enough that there was no need for a car, and he seemed to do fine in his pushchair from where he could admire the seagulls and be fawned upon by the villagers.

James low cries quickly escalated into a full blown wail. Louisa dug his favorite green dinosaur from the nappy bag and waved it front of the crying baby, but it only made things worse.

"Can you keep it down? Some of us are trying to read," snapped the man seated next to Louisa, the one who had snored most of the way from Heathrow.

"Sorry, I'll see what I can do," answered Louisa.

He grunted and turned his attention back to his newspaper.

One thing Louisa could not abide was rudeness. Manners don't cost anything, she had once said to an uncouth, gun wielding hermit. She'd expect bad manners from an old man living in shack but not from a well-dressed executive type. "Excuse me, but you're one to talk. You snore loud enough to wake the dead. At least my son has a good reason for making noise."

Louisa held her breath, waiting for the man to lash back. What was wrong with her, picking a fight with this complete stranger?

The man put down his newspaper and let out a low chuckle. "That's what my wife says, that I snore loud enough to wake the dead. I'm the one who should be sorry. The little tyke obviously doesn't like to be strapped down."

James Henry had quieted down somewhat, his attention taken by the man talking to his mother.

"No, and I'm sorry. It was rude of me to mention your snoring."

"So English of you to apologize for something you shouldn't." He extended his hand. "I'm Max Cleary, at your service."

Louisa tried place his accent as he let go of her hand. "Nice to meet you. American?"

"Ah, you've found me out," he answered with a warm smile. "From Chicago to be exact. Traveling to Malaga on business. You?"

"Holiday," or running away, she added silently. Ruth's words had sat with her in that comfortable way the truth often did, casting doubts on her decision to leave Portwenn. Maybe Ruth was right about the need to face her marital problems head on, but she couldn't take another moment of Martin, well, being Martin.

There was an announcement from the flight deck followed by a flurry of activity from the attendants.

"Almost there," said Max, stowing his paper away. "You've been to Spain?" he asked Louisa.

"A long time ago, when I was at uni. Seems like a lifetime now." It had been a lifetime ago, the sunny beaches and cool nights in the company of Danny, her then boyfriend. Now she was older and wiser, a mother and wife. There would be no cavorting on the beach at midnight with a bottle of Cava.

"All secured?" asked the attendant who had brought Louisa's lunch and tea. She handed over a packet of Rusks. "For the baby to chew on. The change in air pressure can be painful for little ears."

Louisa thanked her and handed a cracker to James who gummed it with gusto. A few minutes later they were taxing to the terminal, and Louisa took out her phone to check for messages. Nothing from neither Martin or her mother. She had secretly hoped Martin would call, leave a message saying how much he missed her and the baby. But that would be unusual behavior for Martin, and she'd more likely get an earful about the idiotic villagers followed by silence as he ran out of things to say. That's how it had been all along between them, she taking two to his one half-hearted step.

The plane had come to a stop and there was a rush of belongings being pulled out of the overhead compartments. Max had retrieved his overnight bag and brief case, and offered to do the same for Louisa. "Are you going to be okay? I can stick around and give you a hand. It's the least I can do after the racket I made with my snoring"

Again, a warm smile lit up his features. Not handsome in the traditional sense, thought Louisa, with his boxer's nose and receding hairline. But nice nonetheless, and she let him take the nappy bag while she carried James in his car seat.

They walked in silence, dodging the crowds, until they arrived at baggage claim. "Someone meeting you?" asked Max. "Yes, my mother." Louisa looked around the terminal teeming with passengers waiting for luggage, loved ones or both. There was no sign of Eleanor and Louisa signed inwardly. Her mother wasn't reliable at the best of times. Maybe she should have made alternative arrangements but this would have cost a pretty penny. Her mother's village was at least fifty miles from the airport, an expensive taxi ride Louisa would rather avoid. "It's nothing Lou-Lou. My friend has a car I can borrow. I'll be there as promised." Eleanor had promised many things to her daughter over the years, promises that had been broken without a second thought.

"Ah, my car is here. Are you sure you don't need a ride?" A capped driver had collected Max's bags and was loading them on a trolley.

"No, no we'll be fine. Thanks all the same." Louisa flashed him a brilliant smile as she scanned the carrousel for her luggage.

"If you say so. Safe travels, Miss…"

"It's Mrs. Ellingham." Max glanced at her left hand. "Of course, silly of me. Well, safe travels, Mrs. Ellingham." He was gone before Louisa had the chance to thank him, swallowed by the throngs milling about the terminal. There was still no sign of her mother, and she wondered if she should have accepted Max's offer. But she taught her pupils never to accept lifts from strangers and she was not about to break that rule even though it meant getting stranded at the airport.

"We'll find a way, won't we James?" She scanned the carrousel for her bag, but didn't see the black case with a bright red ribbon tied on the handle. "Hope that didn't get lost," she grumbled, thinking of the light cotton dresses she had packed. The air was oppressively humid, even with the air conditioning, and she would have liked to change out of her long sleeved top and fitted skirt.

"Right. Time for a nappy change, darling. Maybe Granny and our bag will be there when we get back." James answered with a gurgle followed by "dada".

"No, daddy isn't here. But mama is." She leaned over and kissed the top of his head. Wisps of blond hair tickled her nose and she smiled wanly as he made a grab for her. "Enough you silly. Let's find the nearest toilet."

Louisa locked the pram next to one of the changing table and swung the nappy bag on the counter. She was in the process of taking out the wipes and nappy cream when saw her reflection in the wall length mirror. Her ponytail had come undone, and tendrils of dark brown hair framed her face, pale under the glare of florescent lights. She quickly pulled her hair back, noting the dark smudges under her eyes. They looked hallow or haunted, she couldn't decide which, and to her consternation the sharp pin prick of tears filled her throat and threatened to spill onto her cheeks.

"You right, Miss?" The toilet attendant was standing behind her, a short plump woman with a red kerchief covering her head. She was holding a mop in one hand and bucket in the other.

"Si, yes of course. Gracias" The woman shook her head. "If say so." She lumbered away, and Louisa busied herself with changing James' nappy.

By the time she wheeled the pram back to arrivals her bag was on the carrousel. The concourse had thinned out, with just a few remaining stragglers, and no sign of Eleanor. Louisa grabbed her bag before it made another round and then looked at her phone – still nothing from her mother.

"Typical," she muttered. What had she been thinking, relying on Eleanor to collect them from the airport? Louisa berated herself silently for her stupidity, the earlier sadness replaced by anger. Why did everything have to be so difficult?

James had started to grizzle, it being past his lunch time. "Right. Let's find a place to sit." She wheeled pram and case to a bench with a view of the sliding doors leading to the car park. "Just in case Granny decides to show up," she said, lifting the baby from the pram. A bottle was soon found and he was guzzling it happily as Louisa fished her phone from her purse. Still no message, so she rang Eleanor's mobile.

The call went straight to voice mail. "Mum, it's Louisa. I'm at the airport with James. I thought you'd be here by now. Call me when you get this."

James had finished his bottle and was now drowsing in Louisa's arms. The concourse was empty except for a man a wheeled trolley emptying rubbish bins. She glanced at her mobile, but still nothing.

"Great. What now?" she murmured to the sleeping baby.


	3. Chapter 3

**This is a work of fanfiction. The characters and storylines belong to Buffalo Pictures.**

The Rain in Spain

Chapter 3

Half an hour passed, then another. Louisa checked her mobile every few minutes between hitting her mother's number. "Damn it," she finally said after being routed to voice mail for the umpteenth time. She was getting angrier by minute. Would she ever learn not to rely on Eleanor?

The concourse was filling with passengers from an incoming flight, and the noise woke James from a restless sleep. His blue eyes – his father's eyes- gazed up at her. "What now," he seemed to ask and she shook her head. "Your daddy would never leave us stranded like this," she said, shifting the baby from her arms into the pram. Martin had many faults but he was as reliable as clockwork, a stick of rock, she had once told him. For a fleeting moment she thought to ring and tell him of her predicament, but she could hear him now – "I told you your mother couldn't be trusted". She was in no mood for a lecture, and anyhow, there was a perverse part of her who didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being right.

 _Enough of that_ , she thought and quickly gathered the nappy bag and case. She had noticed a sign for tourist information and made towards the long corridor that spilled into another sunlit concourse. Maybe she could get help sorting out ground transport or at worse, a return flight to London. James had picked up on his mother's mood and had started to whinge. "It's alright sweetheart," She murmured, fishing the remaining Rusk from the nappy bag. James grabbed it but immediately proceeded to fling it in the ground.

"Oh James, this is not the time for silly games." She scooped the biscuit off the floor and threw it in the nearest rubbish bin before approaching the information desk. There, a woman sat behind colorful fliers touting fishing excursions and sea side spas. She watched with sympathy as Louisa pushed and pulled the pram and case up to the desk.

"Hola," said Louisa, wiping her brow with one hand. It was getting warmer by the minute and she was parched for a glass of water but that would have to wait. ¿Hablas inglés?" she asked. The woman was young, her dark hair pulled back into a regulation bun to match her uniform, but her eyes were kind and warm.

"Si. Welcome to Malaga. How can I help you?" Louisa was relieved the woman spoke English. She could have dusted off her secondary school Spanish but was glad she didn't have to.

"I need to get to Rincon de la Victoria. Is there a bus or…?" She sighed. Or what? She couldn't afford a car service and hadn't seen signs for a train station.

"Si, Signora," she answered, "there is a bus but the train is easiest, especially with the bambino." She leaned forward to give James a wave and smile. "Not easy traveling with baby."

"Well yes but we're managing," answered Louisa as James burped up half his lunch.

"Oh dear," she swiped at the baby's mouth with the pram blanket and felt herself once again close to tears.

The woman tut-tut. "I have two nieces. Lots of work." Louisa saw she was wearing a name tag with "Margarita" etched in sliver to match the trim on her uniform. Margarita, Margaret. She shuddered. Margaret Ellingham, her horrid mother-in-law who had lurked about the surgery while her son's marriage disintegrated between its very walls. Louisa firmly believed Margaret had taken a perverse satisfaction in her son's suffering, and for this Louisa would never find it in her heart to forgive her.

There was also no forgiveness in Louisa's mind as she scanned the concourse for her mother. Still no sign of Eleanor. She glanced at her silent mobile before shoving into her bag. Time to take matters in her own hands and she plastered a smile on her face in an effort to ward away the tears.

"Where does one take the train?" she asked, stuffing the sticky blanket in the basket under the pram. It was warm enough for James to do without his blanket but he started to cry the minute it was out of sight. "Oh here." Louisa handed it back to him and he started to fiercely gum one of the corners.

"Teething?" asked the woman. "Yes," answered Louisa. She pushed a strand of a hair from her face with a sweaty hand. It was getting warmer by the minute, and she suddenly felt very tired. Her head had started to throb, adding to the pain of her aching shoulder. The clavicle was almost healed, or so the consultant had said, but it hurt whenever she picked up James.

"You alright?" asked Margarita. She made to go around the counter but Louisa stopped her with a wave of her hand. "I'm fine. Trains?"

"Si. Every hour from the aeropuerto. You must take the shuttle to the station." She hesitated. "First class would be easier with baby. There are porters to help with luggage and attendants to make arrangements for a taxi when you get there."

First class sounded pricey but it might be worth it. But there wouldn't be need for any of this if her mother had shown up as promised. A wave of anger rippled through her but soon receded, leaving her more tired than she had been a few minutes ago.

"Where do I buy a ticket?" she asked.

"Come with me." Margarita came around and took a hold of Louisa's case before she had a chance to protest. "Oh, alright," said Louisa, trotting after the woman.

They went a short distance before coming to a ticket window. A queue snaked past the cordoned waiting area but Margarita ignored it, instead heading towards an open doorway. She hurried through, while Louisa hesitated at the threshold. There were two desks but only one was occupied by a harried looking barking into a headset. "No Signore. We cannot reimburse your ticket because the train was three minutes late." He rolled his eyes at the new arrivals and made a show of slashing his throat. Margarita started to giggle and Louisa wondered if she should make a run for it. "Yes, yes, you too." The man disconnected the call and turned to them. "Swiss. Wound up tighter than a coo-coo clock". He leaned back in his chair and eyed Louisa and the baby. "What have we got here?"

"People from your country, Justin." She pronounced "Justin" with the emphasis on the last syllable. "Will you ever get my name right?" he laughed before turning to Louisa. "So what part are you from?"

She smiled and shook her head, "Not from New Zealand, I'm afraid." Louisa had recognized his accent from having a roommate at uni that had hailed from Auckland.

"Margarita! You bring me an English woman." He stood and extended his hand to Louisa. "Justin, or Just In, as my friend here likes to call me. What can I do for you?"

He was tall and blond, the kind you'd expect to be seen surfing the beaches of Northland and Waikato. He held on to Louisa's hand a moment longer than deemed proper and she disentangled herself before saying, "I'm looking to purchase and ticket to Rincon de la Victoria."

"First class," added Margarita. "Justin will give you – how do you say in English- a deal."

"I will now? Only if you make it worth my while." Louisa thought he was addressing her and was about to demure when Margarita interjected, "Two bottles of wine and dinner at Mama's house."

"Now you're talking." He started to type away at the keyboard sitting on his desk. "Margarita's mama cooks like an angel. Her Paella is to die for." He looked up at Louisa. "Cornwall?"

"What?"

"The accent. It's Cornish. Use to work fishing boats in Padstow."

"He gets around, our Justin," said Margarita fondly. Louisa got the feeling there was more to the two of them that met the eye but decided the last thing she wanted to dwell on at the moment were other people's relationships. She had enough problems with her own to last her a lifetime.

The printer sprang to life and spewed out two tickets. "Here you go," said Justin. "First class seats at second class rates."

Louisa thanked him profusely as she handed over her credit card. "We have to stick together, us Commonwealth folk. Anyhow you must be something special for Margarita to go out of her way to help you out."

"I can't thank you enough. It's all very kind," said Louisa. These were not idle words – she was overwhelmed by their generosity. The kindness of two strangers went a long way in making up for the exhausting last few weeks along with her mother's fickle behavior.

"Us woman have to stick together," said Margarita, squeezing Louisa's arm. "Justin, call a porter to help this lady to the shuttle."

"Yes ma'am," he answered.

They were soon settled on the board the train. The porter had stowed their luggage and the attendant brought Louisa a bottle of chilled mineral water. "Gracias" she said, gratefully taking a long drink. The car was air-conditioned and seats comfortable. James had fallen asleep in his pram and she decided to leave him be.

She had checked her mobile a few more times but then had given up. Eleanor had obviously forgotten or gotten side tracked by something more important - like one of her underhanded business deals or a romp in bed with her latest lover. Louisa chided herself for being uncharitable but quickly reverted to an angry simmer. A total stranger in the guise of Margarita had seen to help her while her own mother couldn't make good on the promise to collect her daughter and grandson from the airport. A leopard couldn't change its spots no more than Eleanor could change hers. Louisa's earliest memories were of her mother rushing in after to collect her from nursery school after all the other children had left. Then it had gone from bad to worse, from Eleanor being late to not showing up at all.

The train lurched forward, waking up the sleeping baby. "Come here, my little man," she said, settling James on her lap. Then she leaned over and whispered in his ear, "You don't have to worry my love. I'll never let you down".


	4. Chapter 4

**This is a work of fanfiction. The characters and storylines belong to Buffalo Pictures.**

The Rain in Spain

Chapter 4

Louisa watched the unfamiliar scenery rush by the train window. Modest dwellings with lines of colorful wash drying in the afternoon sun soon followed the gentle roll of olive and lemon groves, all very different than the craggy wildness of the Cornish coast. She took a sip from a cool glass of mineral water and her elbow and smiled a James, who had just finished a lunch of pureed pears and bananas. Martin had insisted she pack a small cooler of jarred fruits and veg for James. "I doubt you'll find anything easily at hand, Louisa. Just take it." She had fussed – one more thing to carry. But she had to admit he had been right; what a nuisance it would have been, running about looking for a suitable lunch for James.

She had picked at her own lunch of crusty bread, tapenade and a green salad. Her appetite had deserted her since the accident and she was at risk of losing a stone. Martin had harped about the weight loss, just as he had when she gained a few pounds after the baby was born. Nothing seemed to make him happy, including the state of her waist line. How could she make a life with a man who found fault in everything and anything? This was a question she hadn't asked herself enough before the wedding. Marry in haste, repent at leisure. She was repenting plenty now, and felt the familiar tightness in her chest whenever the mangled state of her marriage jumped into the fore of her mind. What would it take to fix whatever was wrong between she and Martin? Maybe there wasn't a fix, and her spirts threatened to drop a few notches below the despair she already felt when the attendant stopped by with coffee.

"I put it here, away from baby," said the man as he poured a cup and placed it at the far end of the little folding table. "Milk, sugar?" Louisa nodded and he whisked a small jug of milk and a bowl filled with sugar cubes from the trolley.

James had fallen asleep in her arms and she placed him in the pushchair without waking him. She took a sip of the excellent coffee and leaned back against the seat cushion, forcing her thoughts away from Martin and Portwenn. But it was no use – the days leading to her departure played themselves out in her beleaguered mind. Martin, contrite and unusually subdued, doing his best to conjure up reasons as to why she shouldn't travel to Spain. "You're not well enough, Louisa. It'll be too hot for James, Louisa. Your mother is unreliable, Louisa." Had he ever been right about the last, she thought ruefully. But in the end all she had wanted to hear from him was one thing and one thing only - "I don't want you to go Louisa". She might still be in Portwenn, if only he had said these few simple words.

She picked up her mobile resting on the tray table. Still no call or text from Eleanor. She threw the phone in her bag and started to think about what she'd do once they arrived in Victoria. It shouldn't be much trouble to hire a room or small cottage in one of the sea side villages. Getting there might be tricky, as there was little public transportation and taxis where expensive. She sighed- to hell with the expenses. What choice did she have?

Louisa worried until the rocking of the train lulled her to sleep. She was tired, so tired, and It wasn't long before she was back in Portwenn. The day was usually fine, clear with a few clouds lazily floating on the horizon. There had yet be a first and second wedding dress, and she still lived in her beloved Rose cottage. It must have been the end of the school day for she was walking towards the Platt hugging an armful of marking. Then out of nowhere appeared Martin, striding purposefully to what she presumed was a house call; his medical case swung tightly in one hand his expression fixed in either concern or disapproval, she couldn't tell which. She stopped to admire the perfect fit of his jacket and trousers along with his tie, an exact match for the blue of his eyes.

He must have sensed her watching and turned to look her way. It seemed imperative not to be seen, so ducked into a doorway and slowly edged into the shadows. Suddenly a door swung open and tumbled backwards into a room filled to the rafters with shelves upon shelves of toothpaste and mouthwash. A bell chimed above the door, announcing her ungainly arrival. She picked herself up as the door slammed behind her, the bell clanging a few more times before falling silent.

It was dim in the back of the room, and it was only when the woman moved from behind a mountain of mouthwash did she realize anyone was in the room.

"Hello" said Louisa. "Didn't mean to barge in. I'll be on my way." She turned and tugged at the latch, but the door wouldn't budge. She pulled at it again and said, "It's stuck."

"He'll never be yours," said the woman, her gaze boring through Louisa's back.

Louisa continued to fuss with the latch. "Oh, it's you Mrs. Tishell. Maybe you can open this for me." Louisa was relieved to see the slightly bodmin but harmless village chemist. Surely she'd open the door for her.

Mrs. Tishell's gaze did not waver, her eyes as cold as those of a bird of prey. "You're just a school teacher. What would he want with the likes of you?" she spat as a malevolent smile spread above the neck collar she wore like armor. Without doubt the woman was mad as hatter - oh why hadn't she seen this before? She frantically resumed pulling at the latch while Mrs. Tishell came closer and closer, her arms reaching for Louisa. The latch finally gave way just as the tip of the mad chemist's fingers grazed the back of Louisa's neck. They felt cold and lifeless, and Louisa yelped as she rushed out onto the street. The bell above the door started to ring, first softly than louder and louder until the noise became intolerable…

Louisa awoke with a start, sweat beading on her forehead despite the coolness of the train. It took her a moment to realize the bell was her ringing mobile. In a half daze she snatched it out of her bag. "Hello?" she said. Snippets of her dream lingered on, an unpleasant reminder of Mrs. Tishell and her obsession with her husband and son. She rubbed the back of her neck, stiff from sleeping in an awkward positon, as a voice blared from her mobile, "Lou-Lou! It's me. Where are you?" Louisa moved the phone away from her ear. "Lou-Lou? Are you there? It's your mum."

"I can hear you," said Louisa drily. She shifted in her seat, all vestiges of her short nap and thankfully the dream, now gone.

"My phone died but I got it going long enough to see you rang. I hope you still plan to visit. Got to see that grandson of mine before he's out of diapers." She gave a little laugh and Louisa heard a sharp intake as Eleanor took a puff from one of her ubiquitous cigarettes.

"I'm here, mum. In Spain."

"What! Oh wait, today's the twenty fourth. So sorry Lou-Lou. Your old mother's memory isn't what it was." She let out a nervous laugh. Louisa remained silent. "Come now, Lou-Lou. It's an honest mistake. We'll turn the car around and be at the airport within the hour."

"I'm not at the airport."

"Well, where are you?" she asked with annoyance. "I don't have time for guessing games, Lou-Lou. Marcelle needs his mobile back and I've got a gig tonight."

Louisa was about to ask about Marcelle but thought better of it. Probably the latest in a long string of lovers or "business associates" as she liked to call them. "On a train to Victoria de la Rincon," Louisa finally answered. "No worries, I'll make my way if it's too much trouble." Barely suppressed anger spilled into her voice which caused Eleanor to soften her response. "No worries, Lou-Lou. We'll meet you at the train station. See you soon."

"It's the three o'clock out of…" started Louisa, but Eleanor had disconnected the call. She threw her mobile back into her bag and muttered under her breath, "Unbelievable."

"Everything okay?" asked the attendant. He was at her elbow with a bottle of spring water and a carafe of coffee. "Yes, yes, thank you," Louisa lied, fighting to collect herself. She was tired, the short nap along with the mad dream having not made a dent in the weeks of accumulated fatigue. Sadness and disappointment along with anger swirled in her chest like an unhinged maelstrom, and she closed her eyes against the threat of tears. It would not do to cry in front of a perfect stranger, and she waited until he had moved on to the next passenger before letting them slid silently down her cheeks.

 **Many thanks to robspace54 who kindly reminded me writing is a load more fun than doing housework.**


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